Me without you
by allthingsdarkx
Summary: It's been an entire year — a whole year since she left the FBI — left me. Jane had unexpectedly left her life with Kurt, her job at the FBI and everything else that ever matter, behind. Kurt is having a really hard time dealing with her departure.
1. Chapter 1

It's been an entire year — a whole year since she left the FBI — left me.

She had been ill that faithful morning so I had insisted that she stayed at home.

"The world will survive one day without you," I said cupping her cheeks and placing a gentle kiss to her temple.

"If it doesn't we'll know who to blame," she says, biting back a grin. I should've known something was amidst the night before.

She was different — distant from me, from everyone else.

If I had known that she'd plan to leave me one day I would've held on a little tighter, loved her a little harder then maybe...maybe she'd still be here.

She would've already been my wife.

Jane was all quiet that night, not like her at all, miss chatter herself. I'm used to the long tales, the rambling, the quick wit. She spoke before I even got the chance.

"I love you." There was something in the way she said it that bothered me, that wasn't Jane. She usually wasn't so direct. How could I have been so dumb to start a romance with everything going on?

I shake my head, wrapping my fingers around the warm mug.

"It's been a year —" Doctor Borden says, snapping me out of my thoughts —"let her go, now" he added gently.

I was filled with my own darkness and depression which I still attempted to file away and forget, like a bad grade or an overgrown nail. Alcohol had become my very bestfriend; my only coping mechanism — the only thing that helped me through the pain I felt after she left.

We were happy together. We had a life together.

Our love was real, I know it was. I felt it in my bones.

I saw it in her eyes; the way she looked at me, the way we made love every night.

How could three years together be all a lie? I refused to believe that the time we spent together meant nothing to her.

I scrubbed my face and glanced up him. He offered me a gentle smile and a slight nod to let me know that he was here for him.

Borden had always been a great pal, a great friend.

"It's not that easy," I said, leaning back in my chair.

There were days I woke and my memories weighed heavy. Being Assistant Director now meant I didn't need an excuse to work my pain out.

Everyday for 6 months, I'd get so drunk in the local bar that my sister would have to get a last minute babysitter to watch Sawyer while she came and babysat her older brother. Her _pathetic_ older brother who couldn't get over his girlfriend.

Everyone I ever loved left. Why did it come as such a shock when Jane left too?

"I loved her — **still** love her" I said quietly.

"I love her," I repeated. I often asked myself what I would do if she suddenly came back. The sensible thing to do would be to turn her away; hurt her the way she's hurt me but I couldn't — wouldn't do that to her.

At one point she loved me and I needed to know what changed and why she felt like she couldn't talk to me?

* * *

A photograph, that was all it took for the tears to burst Kurt's dam of restraint. He clutched the solid wooden frame tight in his hand, able to see a ghostly reflection of his face in the thin sheen of glass that covered it. He looked past her own dreary eyes and stared upon her face that had been caught in a moment of perfection. It was the happiest memories that hurt the worst, they were the ones that cut him deepest. He focused in on her eyes, they were glistening with the twinkle of laughter that once he loved. Now, they laughed at him. They reminded him of what he had lost. He clutched the frame tight, pressing it hard to his chest wishing to feel her head resting upon them one last time. It was in that moment Kurt realised he no longer knew how he felt. He was numb, yet somehow in agony. He longed to be free of her, yet he wanted her back more than he'd ever wanted anything.

He had experienced pain before.

But nothing amounted to this.

He could neither hide or run or fight them. His memories were indeed his worst enemy and the thing that would most likely destroy him.

"Kurt?" Sarah said, her voice cutting through his thoughts and dragging him back to reality.

He wipes away the tears that had fallen from his eyes and unto the picture he clutched, angrily.

"Hey," he says softly, his back still to her. She didn't need to see his face to know how tortured he was — his body language told her all she needed to know.

Sarah walks up behind her brother and hugged him tightly.

He was once so happy for nearly four years with a woman he'd come to love more than life itself. I always thought he was being dramatic when he said he couldn't live without her but I see now that he really can't. He won't let her go — **couldn't** let her go.

Jane and Sarah had gotten really close over the years. They were practically sisters but Jane never — not even once — mentioned that she was unhappy with the life she now had. Things were great at work, she was finally an agent at the FBI and her and Kurt had been more in love than ever. Where did it all go wrong? What happened between these two that ripped them apart so badly that Kurt was still burning?

I peered over his shoulder and saw the wooden frame clutched tightly between his fingers. Their house was practically a Jane museum. He had more pictures of her than they had together. Some pictures were posed while the majority of it was just him catching her off guard.

"You're beautiful lost in your world," he'd tell her every time.

Kurt is in so much pain his complexion is ashen. His natural golden skin has sunken in tone to something so lifeless it scares me just to look at him. His eyes close and he sucks himself into a deeper place to cope. All I can do is hold him tight. It barely seems enough.

"You'll be okay. Just hold on"

* * *

Eleven o'clock morphs into twelve and then one. The time trickles by, marked only by those changing glowing numerals.

My mind is blank; where there should be dreams is a heavy blackness. My eyes are as stationary as the silhouette of my bedside lamp, which is where they rest. When the sallow glow of the streetlamp behind it becomes white, I know my night is over.

My mind flickers to the cupboard and the sleeping pills the doctor prescribed. I don't want them, I don't want chemicals. I close my eyes and they almost sting, open too long I guess. After some moments I recall an old russian tale Jane used to tell, and let it mull around my head for a bit.

 _God, I miss her_. It's been a year but the sheets still smell like her, sometimes I even smell her favourite lotion at random moments.

I was broken now, shattered really, robbed early of the tape and glue necessary to put my soul back together. My heart, poorly stapled shut, was beating hard but without purpose, skin stretched across my aching muscles like a worn canvas. My mind was like a lost man at sea, desperate and starving for some reason to live. Desperate for a memory, good, warm, welcoming, one she could smile to.

I connected to a part of her, others could never feel. I saw a part of her soul she never wanted to let out of the bag. I touched her and saw her reaction, beautiful and raw. For those moments she was more real than the blood in my own veins, and I felt her like the beating of my own heart. The bond we had forged was still molten when she pulled away, too nascent to resist your urge to hide once more. I called for her, held out my hands and let my face become wet with untold tears, my world became blacker than it ever was before, darker for your absence, loneliness crippling my every thought. My lungs struggle for breath against ribs of stone and my feet have lost their wanderlust. Before I met her my heart was soft, with her it became strong and vibrant, now it is simply broken.

"Where did I go wrong, Jane?" I asked quietly.

"Tell me what I did to you that made you pack up and leave me?" I asked louder this time, throwing my pillow against the wall.

To come so close to pure love and lose it so violently is something no medication can heal. I held that girl the first day she came out of that bag, a gift from God above, a new angel for Earth; for me.

There is no graveside I can mourn by, there isn't even a coffin to bury. Fragments of her lie in the rubble of what was once our home.

I knew what I was doing wasn't healthy. I knew I needed to sleep, to eat but I couldn't. I felt hopeless — worthless to everyone around me. If only I had loved her enough she might've still been here. We would've been celebrating our four years anniversary in another month.

I knew when it started it would break me. I knew that there was too much below deck not to shatter my carefully laid floor when it came up. Breaking was hard, recovery almost impossible, but of my journey I am making the best map I possibly can. Drawing it out the way I do helps, swimming in the fine rum daily.

They say the pain dulls with time, and that things will get better. But how can things be better when the reason the pain isn't as bad anymore, is because I've forgotten?

Over time, the memory of your presence would have escaped my mind. I'd no longer see your face in strangers, and the things we once shared would no longer bring tears to my eyes. If getting past the pain means forgetting you, then I choose suffer my entire life.

* * *

A/N: So this happened. I guess I was feeling down for no specific reason and had the brilliant idea of making Kurt go through it with me. I'm so sorry Kurt. :))

Please let me know what you think about this chapter that got a little too sad.


	2. Chapter 2

_**6 months ago...**_

As my eyes open my limbs flex in shock. There is a liquid in them, around my entire body too. Tubes run up each nostril and all that meets my skin is the warm glass that surrounds. There is binding on my limbs and around my neck. Without a conscious thought, a choice, my body does what any must to survive. Every muscle is stronger than it should ever be and there is no mental restraint on the force I can use. Snapped bones are preferable to death. In this way my captors have underestimated my strength. The liquid rushes out of the newly shattered glass and I step out, bindings in place but their anchor points free.

I want to stand but for the moment my legs have given way to gravity, shaky, weak. The retching goes on for so long I lose track of time and then I realize what the stench is. This isn't water at all, it's a preservative of some kind. I blink, blurriness fading, surroundings more crisp. The coldness of the air is more apparent, stealing the warmth given to me by the foul concoction that has swept over the grey floor. I want to use all my senses, get a feel for whatever this is, but the foul odour dominates the air and the chill freezes my skin and the little brain power I can muster.

I must have dozed off because I was awoken by someone shaking me violently.

I wake like I'm hooked up the mains. No sleepiness, no slow warming up. Within seconds of realizing I was unconscious I am on my feet, eyes wide, dreams not just forgotten but obliterated. I am drinking in the feedback of all my senses. Aside from my own noisy breath there is nothing to be heard and the woods are simply too dark to see much at all.

"Hey," a voice called from behind me. My eyes frantically scanned the enclosed room for something I could use as a weapon if the need ever comes.

"I'm not going to hurt you. Here take this," he says in a hushed tone, sliding a little knife towards me.

I took the butter knife and slid it up my sleeve for later. It wasn't the steak knife I had been hoping for, but given enough force behind it into some soft region and it would get the job done.

"I'll keep you, safe. I'll always keep you safe," I've heard that promise my whole life, in the same tone from the same person.

"Roman?"

* * *

 ** _Present time..._**

I felt a raindrop fall against my skin, followed by several others, but I didn't have the heart to go back inside. I moved over and sat on the edge of the roof, crossing one leg over the other, leaning back on my palms to observe the remaining constellations uncovered from the clouds. The moon hung full and hazy beneath an eclipse of blazing stars, allowing me to see the rooftops of the identically bleak buildings surrounding my own. My body was a fountain for the incoming rain, the water making my eyelids heavy. I closed my dull green eyes, a rattled sigh passing through my parted lips as I did so, causing my breath to fog up in front of me, obscuring my vision, as I took in the feeling of wet, bruised skin.

Nights like these reminded me of my time spent at home — Kurt's home — we'd sit out on the porch, count the stars and make out like horny teenagers. It was almost like I could feel him in the raindrops.

Memories are often invoked by a fragrance, for me it is the smell of Hazelnut latte; Kurt's favourite — then I am at the cute little cafe, glistening in the afternoon sun. Yet for me the strongest memory, the one that feels most like being sunk into one of those alternative reality machines, is the giggle from my neighbour's baby, Melody. It is more delicate than wind chimes and just as chaotic, just as melodic. In these quiet moments I think of a future without the man I walked out on. I wonder how he's doing. I hope he isn't drinking and working himself down to nothing.

He probably is though, that's just how Kurt handles pain.

I caused him pain. He was probably hurting because of me, because of my selfish needs and requirements.

I pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around my shins; if I could just curl up into a ball, I wouldn't have to face real life, I'd be protected from everything around me.

But I'd still have to live with myself, with the wretched memories swirling around in my head.

The memories of what happened a year ago — something Kurt would never understand.

When the guilt comes it takes me down the old familiar path. I want to refuse to walk it, pretend that I am the person I demand that I be. I want to see myself in sepia tones, not perfect colour. I want to scrub my head, but if I did I'd never learn from what happened. And it's true what they say, " _Those who don't learn from history are doomed to repeat it."_

And I couldn't bare that. So I keep my eyes on the horizon and my mind tuned to creating a positive future; because really, isn't that what everyone needs?

It's been an _entire_ year.

365 days _without_ Kurt.

I was _suffering_.

I couldn't sleep at nights; not without him.

I had gotten so used to someone holding me throughout the night, kissing me and telling me how much they love me that I couldn't fall asleep without that — I couldn't fall asleep without him telling me that he loved me. I couldn't asleep without hearing his heartbeat; strong and steady, against my head.

I couldn't sleep in such an empty bed — empty house.

But I couldn't go back home not after how I left.

I had to planned to return home after I found out what I did, just a month after I left, but I couldn't.

I have tried to throw him out of my head. But he keeps coming every night. I don't know if I should really call it a nightmare. Because I always wake up before I get to see the part where I break his heart.

Maybe I can never get rid of it, or maybe I don't want to. It's the only part of him I can hold onto. And every time I see him I revise through all the other options I had — break this heart, create a diversion, or let him kill me. But I had done none of them, and what's done is done. I can't ever change that. I let him haunt me every night, so I can still have part of him and hope that one day he will forgive me.

 _God, I hope he forgives me_.

He probably knew something was wrong. Nights leading up to my departure I would randomly tell him I loved him. We'd have alot more sex; it was like I had to take enough from him to keep myself upright for when I finally decided to walk out that door and never come back.

There are days when I just want to pack up this life I made for myself and run back into the comforting arms of Kurt.

I want to beg, plead, get down on my knees and tell him that life here has meaning, that our love has meaning, but I couldn't, I needed to stay focused.

I was unusually quiet that night. Normally, I'd talk his ear off from the ride home until we got into bed.

I remember it like it was just yesterday.. It still feels like it was

I bit my inner lip for just a half second before sitting next to him, flicking my hair in the fading light of the evening.

He gave me a worried look but I cut him off before he even got a word out

"I love you." It took everything in me not to break down right there knowing that was the last time I would ever see him.

 _I love you. I love you with everything that I am but I'm so scared that if you stay with me you'll die_.

Of course, I don't say that but I wanted to. I wanted him to know the real reason behind my leaving. I wanted him to know that it wasn't his fault. As cliché as it sounds it wasn't him, it was me.

He looks away, I know his eyes are full of emotion he doesn't want to share.

I could tell he wanted to know more but he didn't push it.

I'd rather put myself in the firing line infinite times than have him here with me.

I loved him more every day in the three years we spent together, more than words could ever express. I would live infinite lifetimes by his side if I could. But this battle has my name on it, it's my destiny.

This isn't the future I thought we'd have, but if we want a beautiful world for our children, our grandchildren and all the generations after that we must go our separate ways. It was the only way

"I love you," I whispered into the darkness, pressing my cheek against my knees.

"I **still** love you"

* * *

There is a tenseness to my muscles that makes me more like a mannequin on this soft mattress than a woman of flesh and bone. I want so much to melt onto the soft foam, wrapped in eiderdown, and drift into the world of dreams. Yet my brain is a violent whirl of stupidity, trying to organize the chaos in my life. It seeks to discover a way to control the capriciousness of people, to acquiesce and please them so that our encounters are softer, less draining. Of course the task is pointless, life is far too random for a human brain to take the billions of factors that come together to form just one day for one person. Though my conscious brain knows all this by subconscious remains stubborn in its attempts to protect me, to ensure my survival. Ironic really, what I really need to survive tomorrow was sleep.

This sleeplessness is my torture. While the rest of the world embraces their dreams, their eight hours of rest, I toss and turn chasing the white rabbit.

Emotional pain leaves invisible scars, yet they can be traced by the most gentle of touch. Sometimes, like a cyst, the "wound" must be opened to be healed; other times a well meaning person may seek to heal what should be left alone.

* * *

 **A/N; Okay, first of all this chapter is a bit short because it was unnecessarily stressful. I accidentally deleted the first draft so I changed this chapter completely.**

 **Take 2 wasn't that impressive either so I deleted that too. Hopefully this chapter was okay. Please let me know..**


	3. Chapter 3

They had been running for hours, deeper and deeper into the woods. They didn't know where they were but Jane was exhausted her back felt like it was on fire and her skin ached; she was never one to give up so easily but now she had no choice. Her legs buckled and blood ran at the side of her face from where her captors hit her over the head with a steed rod. It was way too dark to make out any of them out but she would remember their voices for as long as she lived and would remember the way their skin felt against hers.

"I need to rest, give me a minute," she said to Roman, very out of breathe.

She sat leaning against the side of a tree, with a glazed, but curious expression of marked unbelief on her face. Between the thumb and index finger of her right hand, she held the severed index finger of her left hand, as if trying to figure out how she could possibly repair and reattach it.

"It's broken, alright," Roman said taking the other side of the tree.

She hadn't seen Roman in nearly six years and out of nowhere he turned up exactly where she was, and helped her out of a very sticky situation. She didn't have the strength to interrogate him so instead, for the time being, she just thanked him. He waved his hand around as if to say "don't mention it" and gave her one of his award winning smiles.

He let his eyes travel her entire body for a minute before a frown took over his face

"I love you but you look like ass,"

A small chuckle escaped her lips which made her wince and grab onto her stomach.

 _She was definitely bruised there._

Roman was trying very hard not to stare at her nose but he kept finding his eyes had diverted to it. One moment they were obediently on her red rimmed eyes and the next they were rested on the bloody mess that had been a perfectly ordinary nose only hours before; so ordinary in fact that she could not recall what it had looked like.

"Your nose is fucked too,"

Her eyes snapped open and she glared at him before closing it back and settling herself as comfortably she possibly could on a tree.

"Please keep the compliments coming," she said sarcastically.

 _The banter was still very much alive and well between them._

On each arm there were great purple welts that will only deepen over the coming week. Against her ghostly skin they are grotesque.

She looked as beaten up as she did in her earlier days of training, sparring with guys two heads taller and over twice her mass. At least they didn't go for her face — unlike those pricks.

Purple welts were scattered across her abdomen like a disease. It hurt to breathe and she wondered if some ribs were cracked.

"You'll be okay, kiddo" Roman reassured.

* * *

 _5 months earlier..._

Jane rose unsteadily to her feet, it was against "Doctor" Roman's orders to be moving right now but she needed to use the bathroom and she'd have to have both legs broken before she'd ask for assistance with that.

She was startled to see a face glaring back that was more purple than any other colour.

Her head was throbbing and her entire body ached. She felt like she would pass out at any given moment

"It's really something that you never get used to," Roman said as he entered through the creaky door.

She still had nightmares of the cold and slimy fingers crawling up her spine, exploring her body and squeezing her neck with all the strength they had.

Fear. It's so human.

"Get used to people strangling me ? Yeah no thanks," she said mockingly, examining the stubborn purple marks on neck.

* * *

Silvers of light peeped through the drawn blinds, casting thin golden stripes across her angelic face.

It felt so good to finally be back around some normalcy, it had been far too long.

If it hadn't been for Roman, her captors might've already killed her and stuffed her body somewhere no one would dare look.

"You cheated... _again_!" Roman groaned in frustration.

They had been battling against each other in the only game Roman's house had; Mortal Kombat.

"When will you ever admit that I am better and smarter than you will ever be?" I asked innocently, biting back a smirk. Roman always got really competitive but so did I. We had been playing for hours until he finally called it quits.

"Fine. You're better. Whatever," he said reaching over to grab some popcorn. We had been living together ever since he saved me from that awful prison. He had explained why he was there, how he knew where I was and how he came around to helping me. I never say this enough but I'm really thankful for him. Roman is fiercely loyal and very overprotective, as if I needed that.

He always does this; like I'm a desperate little girl who always needs him to protect her. Maybe it's just because he cares about me too much. He likes to act like I don't know how to do anything on my own and he has to protect me from everything.

 _Why wouldn't he?_

He's the one I've grown up with and he will always be my partner.

Roman is only a year older than me. But he always acts like he is my protector, my guardian. Maybe it's because he likes to be the one who always gets to order me around, or control me. But I guess he only does that because he loves me, and he has grown up learning how to protect me all the time.

"What was that?" I asked grinning wildly.

He narrows his eyes at me and nudges my shoulders before getting up and heading over to the kitchen.

"You need anything?" He asked pointing towards the fridge and by anything he really meant "what kinda beer do you want?"

"Nah," I said, shaking my head at him.

It was time for me to get some rest after 12 hours of gaming and getting drunk with Roman who wouldn't take no for answer.

* * *

When Jane opened the door to her bedroom, there was something that made her nervous. It could have been a tincture of the wrong aroma, or the temperature being too cold — like a window had been opened in her absence.

She wasn't sure. Her instinct told her to run, call Roman, ask him to come, but she decided she was being silly and walked in regardless. No sooner had she hit the light switch did a golfing iron hit her in the head. She felt the pain and saw the second blow come for her abdomen.

The men have the exits covered, there's nowhere to run. She raises her hands up in surrender and backs away slowly.

"It's been awhile," the tallest out of the two said grinning wildly at her. The voice

 _Of course, they'd track her._

"It has," she said lowering her hands and taking a step towards them. They were both clad in all black and each wore ski masks over their faces.

"I like this look," the shorter one said reaching to touch her hair. He curled one strand of hair around his finger and tugged on it gently.

The air is suddenly rent by the sound of breaking glass. Other than a gunshot there is nothing that gets my attention sooner or heart accelerating faster.

As always I'm first on my feet, first to be armed, back against the cool plaster of the wall. Breaking glass almost never heralds anything good.

"You okay?" Roman asked, checking the man's pulse to see whether he was dead or alive.

"Check the bedrooms, take her alive," a gruff voice said in the distant.

Suddenly, a crowbar swings in slow motion, even the man swooping behind seems to slow his arc to the next branch.

"Grab her, Ethan!" yelled the tall, blonde man, who appeared to be the leader.

The two minions lodged towards Jane, hitting her across the face with their guns. Roman retrieves a little knife from his back pocket and sticks it into one of the men's neck. He gave Jane a quick glance to ensure that she was okay.

"Fools!" The leader hissed running towards the gun that had fallen during the scuffle.

Then the first blow comes, a single sniper shot.

A sudden gush of pain jolted throughout Roman's body. His stomach ached, his arms lost tension and his legs began to weaken.

"Stay strong," he thought as he dropped to the ground. His tongue was soaked in the taste of blood. Bruised and winded, with a leg in agony, he grabbed the foot of the leader and pulled him to the ground. His head was pounding. He brought a fist to the leader's face, snapping his nose into a grotesquerie.

Jane grabbed his gun and shot him straight execution style.

"I'm good, I'm good," Roman said clutching his abdomen.

"It's barely a fresh wound,"

The bullet wound looks nothing like she'd expected. Instead of a neat reddened hole it was oozing with dark congealing blood and the putrid smell was enough to initiate a gag reflex.

If the entry wound was small the exit was a gaping mess. Jane kept her face passive while she panicked on the inside. "Roman, this is no problem. Just hang on, I'll get supplies."

The dark red blood makes its way out of Roman's body. It oozes between the space between of fingers as he covers his wound with a shaky hand. His vision becomes blurrier as red shirt turns darker and all can be seen is the scarlet blood that once flowed in his veins. Each drop of blood slowly takes away the life in him, leaving him pale and weak, yet defying death.

"Stop... hospital," he croaked out with out.

She couldn't patch him up on her own, they didn't have any of the necessary supplies needed and Roman was bleeding out fast.

"Roman.."

"New York," he breaths out before he slipped into a state of unconsciousness. Jane knew she needed to get him to a hospital right now or she'd lose the only person she now had.

 _New York, here we come..._

* * *

 ** _Present time..._**

The light of the day had long since ebbed and dwindled to nothing, now as midnight marched steadily toward us the air was cooler and damper than it had been. In the sweet rain washed darkness the sounds of the night became loud in our ears, even the rustling of the leaves and the whisper of the wind was thunderous. I swear that in the absolute blackness of that midnight world I could have heard a beetle in the earth, so acute became my hearing.

Beyond the horizon, the sun illuminated the shimmering haze of pollution. In the far distance, the silhouette of the skyline pierced through the warm glow like a jagged mountain ridge.

Millions of lights caused the dense mass of skyscrapers glitter. People were needle points and cars were blood cells flowing through the veins of the city.

Despite the time, the hustle and bustle never came to a halt. The city's residents were off for a movie or to chill out in a smoky jazz bar downtown.

"Everything seems so different," Jane mentions walking alongside Roman.

He had given her quite a scare. The doctor explained to her that if she hadn't brought in when she did he might've been dead.

He underwent three different surgeries that night but Jane was certain he would pull through — _he had to_.

"You sound like a typical yorker," he said grinning at her.

They had been residing in New York for almost two months. They stayed indoors during the day but roamed the streets late at nights.

"Wait!" Jane yelled, tugging Roman's arm towards a little café.

By day this cafe is the colour of supermarket oranges, it has that shiny look, and the jazz pours out of the open doors along with the aroma of fresh baked lasagne.

But now that it's almost tomorrow and the light of the day has been replaced by the unrelenting blackness of night, the frontage is as grey as the smooth concrete sidewalk at my feet.

She takes in a deep breath, sucking in the air that carries a hint of dampness and lacks the heavy pollution of the day traffic.

"Isn't it a bit late for sweets?" Roman asked, stopping her in her tracks.

"Says the guy that drinks beer all day?" Jane asked, rolling her eyes playfully at him.

Reluctantly he agreed and allowed himself to swept into the little sugar factory.

In the bakery the air is more delicious than any flavour. Somehow the aroma captures everything good in there: the filter coffee, the various cakes, the danish pastries.

The blend is perfection, but as a mixture of flavours they would be terrible "coffee-cake-pastry."

I don't think so somehow. It's the kind of place I can sit in for hours, the air so perfumed without chemicals.

"You seem to know your way around here," Roman says watching her in amusement.

"Kurt would bring here when I was mad at him. It worked like a charm — I'm sorry," she said, shaking her head slightly.

Roman gave her a sad smile and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze.

"Why don't you go home to him?" He asked seriously watching her closely.

"Let's just get something to eat," she said quietly, refusing to meet Roman's intense gaze. She had explained everything to him after one too many drinks.

For the first time in almost an entire year, she let herself feel; she cried herself dry while Roman just sat there comforting her quietly. It was the first time he had ever seen her so raw; so exposed.

She was always the strong kid, always the one who drew for her weapon first. She was always prepared.

She was a very good fighter but also a very good actress in that entire time they lived together she didn't mention Kurt — not even once — not until they'd gotten way too drunk and she released everything that she was feeling into the open.

The bakery was a galley of a shop. So much of the space had been taken up by the ovens and the mouthwatering displays that the customers were left to squeeze in and out.

From the cracking chess board tile Jane could only imagine the store to be older than herself, though the sign above the display window was freshly painted in black and white.

The cakes beckoned her in and the aroma of fresh baked cookies and bread took her by the hand and led further inside.

After a few minutes, they squeezed themselves past the anxious buyers and sat at the table closet to the window.

Jane picked up a piece of bread and gazed out into the darkness her eyes landed on a young couple walking hand in hand, stealing a kiss or two every now and then.

Her mind quickly found the memory of her and Kurt's first night here.

She had almost gotten her head blown off in the field and he was livid. She argued that she wasn't a child and she was fully capable of taking care of herself.

"Didn't your father ever teach you to keep your guard up?" He asked rising his voice. At that point he was frustrated and had been too tired to argue with her.

His statement instantly silenced her though and she stared at him with wide eyes.

"I didn't have a father," she choked out, her green eyes glistening with unshed tears.

He instantly regretted it and spent all night trying to make it up to her.

"Hey?" Roman said gently squeezing her hand in his.

She offered him a tight smile and quietly ate her soft pastries, savoring the sweet taste.

Roman greedily scarfed down the bread and cookies and went up to order some more.

After eating they remained seated and just stared out of the window and chatted lightly.

"I just feel empty, like a part of me is gone and I need to get it back. I'm tired and can't focus," Jane said after sometime.

Roman gave her a sympathetic smile and assured her that at the right time she would find whatever she was looking for.

* * *

The world is as silent as if it ended in the night. The sun is still resolutely below the horizon and the street is as dark as some old-school black and white movie. As I close my eyes I feel the heady pull of my dreams, beckoning me back to play.

I turn begrudgingly to the light switch and flick it, immediately the room is bathed in that unnatural electric glow.

I should do something about that, get some fancy soft glow bulb, or perhaps just a bedside lamp. But the cool blue strip light is calming in a very weird way.

Before the day has started for the masses I am already in my kitchen, fully dressed and ready to go.

Outside it is as black as night, only by the clock can I tell the difference between the time to sleep and the time to rise.

I quickly ate some toast and carried it down with some orange juice. _I'm so healthy._

Usually I worked out and did whatever training I needed to do in the house but it was really beautiful outside and I almost forgot what it felt like to be outdoors during the day.

I left Roman, also known as Mister worrisome, a note notifying him off my whereabouts and stepped outside.

I let the moment sink in. It soothed he from the core right out to where the nascent rays touched my skin.

This meant a new beginning was possible and possibilities meant hope... or something like that.

Running taught me a bit about life; every little thing is broken down into one step at a time.

That's as easy and as hard as every task is. If you look ahead at how far the run is, maybe you'll never begin. If you just start running there's a great chance you'll finish.

Over the past year I've learned not to overthink everything. Just run.

I had been too lost in circling the block that I didn't even see the man approaching me, I didn't see when he stopped in his tracks and pulled out his phone.

I didn't see anything except the 'finish line', I needed to reach.

I didn't see him until it was far too late, not until I'd already knocked him off balance and caused both of us to go crashing to the ground.

"I am so sorry," I said picking myself off of the ground.

When I finally meet his gaze I nearly turn around and leave. He just stared at me open mouthed.

His mouth opened and closed a few times as if he didn't know what to say to me.

He pushed his hands into his pockets, suddenly unsure of where to put them. Shyness wasn't usually his gig, this was new.

I could feel my heart beat —every single pound in my chest. Not through my ears, that was occupied by his steady breathing.

But I couldn't just stand there. I had to say something —do something but I couldn't.

We stood there in silence for about two minutes before I finally broke the silence.

"Kurt"

* * *

A/N; They finally meet!

And yes, I've seen some of your reviews asking about the real reason why she left that will be revealed in the future chapters to come through her flashbacks.

And no, this isn't the last of their meeting as tempting as the thought might be they have to talk about everything that happened in the year like adults... to an extent.

Thank you to all that have been reading and enjoying this story so far, I'm really grateful for you wonderful people.

Please let me know what you think about this chapter your reviews really help.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: I used 'Aleksandra' as Jane's name since my friend really likes that. Along with Alice (that dreadful name) she also got Aleksandra out of the random letters so Fetije, you're welcome!

* * *

She boiled the kettle for the fifth time that morning, already filled to the brim with tea and wired with caffeine, she busied herself getting the cups and teabags ready. Another quick glance at the luminous digital clock of the oven only seemed to confirm that time was slowing down, her stomach knotted up.

It seemed like hours had passed, but it was only just a few minutes.

"What did he say?" Roman asked, leaning against the counter with a cup of fresh coffee.

"He just started at me — for like a really long time. I think he was too shocked to react," she explained pouring a cup of coffee for herself.

It had felt like Kurt spent hours just standing there looking at her like she had suddenly grown another head.

After what felt like eternity he finally broke the silence.

He asked how she was doing and how long she was in town for. The conversation seemed normal enough until he asked what she dreaded she would have to explain one day.

"He wants me to meet him at the cafe," she said breathing in the delicious beverage.

She didn't exactly agree but she didn't deny the offer either.

"So are you going?" Roman asked stuffing his face with the only food he could probably make; bacon and eggs.

Jane turned and made a face at him then shrugged.

It was very Roman to make crazy suggestions.

What do I turn up and say?

 _"Oh hey Kurt, I'm sorry I packed up and left in the dead of the night while you were working really hard._

 _Oh and I was tortured for three to four months after I left your house. But how's work?"_

No. That's crazy and even I know it.

"He wants to meet at 8pm. It's now, — she glanced at the clock, — 5:30pm"

Roman squeezed her shoulder as he always did and placed a kiss on the top of her head.

"It's up to you"

But was it?

I knew I owed him an explanation but he wouldn't understand —atleast _I_ didn't think he would.

He would get so angry if I as much as prick my finger, how could I stand there, look him in the eye and break his heart all over again?

I clenched my fists tightly, until my nails dug into the palm of my hand, but I barely noticed.

The only thing I was really aware of, was the sound of my heart throbbing against the cage of my chest.

* * *

A muscle twitched involuntarily at the corner of his right eye, his mouth formed a rigid grimace.

With arms folded tightly across his broad chest he tapped his foot furiously and all the while stared out of the grimy window. This fitfully dark evening would either see the dawn of his new life or snap his dreams in two.

On any other August evening I would have smiled at the couples filling the cafe sidewalk.

I would have seen my future reflected in them, my hand being touched gently by the woman I love, who adored me and a shy smile playing on her lips.

But not tonight. Tonight I tug at the neck of my shirt and squirm impatiently in my seat.

After much insistence Jane finally agreed to meet me at the café — our café at 8pm, it was 7:49pm and I was quickly feeling my stomach twist into knots.

 _What if she doesn't show? What if she just said she would come but didn't?_

I was overthinking this way too much. She would show up. She wouldn't leave me here waiting for her.

 _But she didn't she that one time at park?_

"Excuse me, sir?" The waitress said gently; this was the second time she had come over to my table, both times I just ordered more wine to keep my nerves down.

 _Bright idea._

"You have to order now, sir" she said glancing at the empty seat besides me and offered a sympathetic smile.

"I'll just have a salad, thanks" I said tilting my head slightly to give the waitress my best smile for being so patient.

She just nodded and hurried off into the opposite direction.

It was now 8:45pm and I was more than convinced that she wasn't showing up. She had played me like a piano... _again_.

I was eating the dinner like I thought it was poisoned.

Each forkful was tinier that you'd feed a baby and even then I just nibbled it, pausing before taking any more.

When the meal was finished I called the waitress to bring me the check and walked out of the café with my hands buried in my pockets.

 _Stood up yet again,_ I thought miserably.

I had drove to the café but ignored my car parked in the driveway and continued on the narrow road.

* * *

"So she just didn't show?" Sarah asked her brother, with her hands on her hip.

To say she was upset was a very big understatement.

Kurt moved backward just a little, frown deepened, stomach tight.

"Just let it go, Sarah" Kurt said shaking his head slightly.

His blue eyes looked like a sweater that had been washed way too much; the colour so was faded.

It looked like the life was being slowly sucked out of him, he had gotten thinner and his hair was always messy.

Sarah turns away briefly before facing him once again.

"No, it's rude. You just don't do that. You don't just make appointments then just not show up.

Jesus, what the hell happened to her?"

"Sarah —"

"How do you leave a man you spent almost four years with? What the hell was so bad?"

She cast her eyes at him just long enough to catch his red rimmed eyes and downcast expression.

Her scowl wiped clean.

"You need to let her go," Sarah whispered gently, pulling him into a hug.

He sniffled and gave her a soft nod.

It was killing Sarah to see her brother in this state over a woman that didn't seem to care whether he lived or died.

* * *

"We're taking you out, man" Reade said dragging Kurt to the car.

He had somehow convinced Kurt to leave his apartment after five months.

He had been working far too much and hadn't been taking much care of himself which caused Reade to gather the others along with Sarah for a night out.

"We'll go to some fancy restaurant and eat our hearts out then, you my friend, we'll find you a little lady friend."

He said wiggling his eyebrows at his friend.

The starry night above was better than any software imitation. There were lighter patches, clusters of faint and bold light, the constellations altered according to the time of year.

These were the same stars that greeted the ancients, the same ones that would be there in millions of years.

The ride to the restaurant had been a rather short one but Kurt had laughed more than he did in a really long time.

His eyes shone brighter than usual and his smile seemed sincere enough.

An audible gasp escaped Kurt's lips when they finally got inside the restaurant.

 ** _The Thatcher_ ** was not the kind of place you get a table on impulse.

You had to been booked two months in advance and of course, Reade being the amazing friend had it all taken care of.

Large mullioned windows, long embroidered curtains, dark walnut tables, flowers on each table, delicate live piano music, flagstone tile floor, lounge area with embroidered couches, oval coffee tables with splendidly proportioned cabriole legs, tea served from silver trays in white teapots.

"This is way too fancy," Kurt said leaning over to whisper his statement into Reade's waiting ear.

He just flashed a smile and shrugged, leading them all to the table.

Once seated, the waitress came over to take their order.

The waitress whose name was Emma, according to her name tag, stood with what looked like a mini touch screen computer ready to take our order.

As they spoke she deftly tapped the screen to transmit the order straight to the kitchen, then she beamed at them with the enthusiasm of someone new to the job and asked if she could get us any drinks.

"Just bring us a bottle of your finest wine," Reade said with the biggest smile on his face gaining an eye roll from Tasha and a nudge under the table from Sarah.

"What?" He asked innocently, "It's not everyday my friend has control of his life," he beamed at Kurt who just chuckled softly.

The waitress nodded with a bright smile then made her way back to the counter.

In about twenty minutes two waitresses made their way back to the table placing the items gently on the table.

"Any else, sir?" Emma asked giving Kurt a shy smile.

"That's all, Emma," he said returning mirroring her expression.

She turned her head to the side to avert her gaze, but the sudden rosiness of her cheeks gave her away.

"Enjoy your meal," her friend said glaring back at her.

"See you still got it," Reade said reaching across the table to give his friend a high five.

* * *

It was 9pm on a Friday night and guess what I was doing? Just guess...

I'm laying around in sweats and a tank top binge watching something called ' _The Walking Dead_ ' it was Ellen's, Roman's girlfriend's crappy show. Well it wasn't that crappy since I was already on season 4 in two days.

Ellen had traveled to Las Vegas to visit her parents, apparently they have a family dinner or sometimes dinners every month. Must be nice.

And Roman... well he was somewhere being Roman.

Suddenly Ellen yanked the door to my bedroom open and just stood there still; hoodie still covering her face but the wild blonde curls scattered about and I knew something horrible must have happened.

She wasn't expected to return in another two days.

As she drew nearer I could see the tear streaks and running mascara without another word I pulled her into a hug and sat her gently at the edge of the bed.

We just sat there hugging until her cries died down and she stared up at me with intense grey eyes.

"Thank you for that," she said throwing her jacket off her shoulders and laying back on the bed.

She patted the spot next to her requesting that I lay with her.

"Dinner was a wreck," she said wiping her nose with the back of her hand.

Her father had announced that he had cancer the night before and called all of his children — including his illegitimate children, over for the huge announcement.

"To say things spun out of control, was putting it lightly," she explained running her hand through her long blonde hair.

She sat up a little too quickly almost making her fall completely off the bed.

"We should go out," she shrieked, clapping her hands together.

Ellen's idea of _going out_ was a fancy restaurant that would probably send me into bankruptcy.

"You know I can't afford your idea of _'_ going _out_ ' not with what I make,"

She waved her around in annoyance and pulled me up from the bed.

"That hair is disgraceful. We need to fix that," she said making a face at my hair which was indeed very disheveled.

My hair was as wild as the jungle, untamable and unruly.

My once stunning black curls now vaguely resembled a birds nest and any clips that had once held them in place were long gone.

I sighed in defeat and allowed myself to be dragged away to have my appearance rectified.

Ellen had insisted on **_The Thatcher_** , by far the most expensive restaurant in all of New York.

I'm pretty sure their water was atleast $1000. It looked like something out of a fairytale, it was fancier than the little café for sure.

"Come on. Let's sit — she paused for a second scanning the entire room before pointing to the available table closest to the window —there,"

We squeezed our way over to table and sat down. I had gotten used to people staring at my tattoos so being in a roomful of rowdy New Yorkers did nothing to my already deflated ego.

"Oh I forgot to mention Roman might be coming to join us,"

 _Might?_

"Cool"

As we waited for Roman we observed the restaurant and what caught my eyes were the waiters.

Their black uniforms neatly ironed and tucked in, white ties around their necks suffocating them like a python wound around them and all the tasks they had to manage in the limited amount of time.

Angry customers tired of the blazing heat gave them furious glances as they grew impatient.

The waiters rushed around with their pens, touch pads and diaries hurriedly taking orders.

It was an utterly chaotic atmosphere and the tension of the waiters heightened with every passing moment.

"That one's really cute," Ellen says pointing over to a muscular, brunette guy with the greenest eyes I've ever seen.

"Who's really cute?"

Roman asked plopping down in the seat we reserved for him.

"You are.. really cute," Ellen said batting her long eyelashes at them.

I made a puking face at them and they both laughed.

"Listen I'm gonna go to the bathroom.

You guys have like ten minutes to make out before I come back. Have fun,"

I squeezed my way pass the few people gathered around and stepped into the bathroom.

I really wanted to wash my face but Ellen would probably murder me.

It's not like I couldn't apply my own makeup I just didn't feel like I needed it.

Maybe an occasional chapstick here or there but that was it.

Keep it together, I said inwardly

"Oh God," I heard a voice say at the door.

 _Great another elderly person to lecture me about my tattoos. Awesome!_

Someone was here to lecture her alright but it wasn't the typical elder.

"Tasha," I said turning back to meet her gaze.

She did not look happy to see me which was expected.

"Is this what you do on a typical Friday night?" She asked stepping closer to me.

"Is the little café now below your standards?"

They all knew of the little café — _our little café._

They always teased us about it everyday at work but I knew they were all happy that we found a place that was just for us.

"I know you didn't come here to talk to me." I said pointing towards the stalls

She stared at me with a blank expression then smiled.

Perhaps 'smile' wasn't the right word for it — the top row of teeth wasn't showing, and there was a faint curve to the lips, but there was no crease below the eyes, no movement of the cheeks.

On anyone else, it would be a grimace, at best.

"Actually I do want to talk to you about what you did to Kurt," she said stepping even closer to me until she was right in my face. I kept my expression nonchalant and titled my head to the side slightly.

"When you left he would get drunk every single night, Sarah would have to stay over with him because she was so afraid that he might hurt himself.

He was diagnosed with severe depressed after three months and was given a shitload of pills along with sleeping pills because he wouldn't sleep, wouldn't eat — he would just come to work and spend the reminder off his nights at **_Scotty's_** drinking his life away.

He loved you and you just left him. When did you turn out to be such a bitch?"

The silence lay on my skin skin like a poison.

It seeped into my blood and paralyzed my brain.

"That wasn't my intention. I am sorry about that. Truly,"

Tasha rolled her eyes and exhaled heavily.

"You hurt him, Jane.

You hurt all of us," she said sadly, turning on her heel and walking out. Her bladder forgotten.

The tears flowed unchecked down and dripped from my chin. I was far too sad to cry out or wail.

Instead I just stood there as still as a statue while the magnitude of my loss sweep over.

When I returned to the table Roman and Ellen were laughing at something incredibly dumb but Roman looked so happy.

I didn't want to spoil the mood so I mustered the most fake smile and sat down to join them.

Roman glanced at his watch and turned to me with a little smirk.

"You're an idiot," I said shaking my head at him.

"Did you meet one of the many hot waiters that were trying to flirt with you?" Ellen asked smiling broadly.

She desperately wanted me to _'hook up'_ as she so lightly put it, with someone instead of spending my nights training and binge watching shows.

I thought my life was okay as it was. I didn't need to hook up mainly because I was still hooked on Kurt.

"Nah. Listen guys, I'm gonna go," I said rising to my feet.

"What's wrong?" Roman asked, his smile immediately faded as he rose to his feet and took my hand in his squeezing it gently.

"Is everything okay?" Ellen asked with a sad expression.

"I just need to go. I can't be here right now" I said to Roman, yanking my hands from his hold.

Roman reached into his back pocket, pulled out his wallet and handed it to Ellen.

"Get a cab and head home. I'll deal with her," Ellen just nodded numbly and rose to her feet.

"You wanna leave? We'll leave,"

The second we got outside, he puts Ellen into a cab and told her he'd call before we got in.

The minute the car drives off, he grabs me by my elbows and pulls me in.

"What happened?" He asked slowly, his jaw clenched tightly and his eyes went dark.

As much as I tried to hold it back I couldn't the muffled sobs wracked against my chest.

The world turned into a blur, and so did all the sounds.

The taste. The smell.

Everything was gone. The last painful emotion slammed against me before I lost the feeling of feeling.

I wasn't just sad anymore I was angry. _At myself —at him._

Roman tighten his grip around my shoulders and rubbed my back in circular motion until my breathing went back to normal.

"I hate seeing you like this," he whispered into my ear.

I let out a shuddered breath and pulled my hair up in a messy bun.

The wind had already blown out all the curls anyway.

The driveway was crowded with people, and the chaos was so perfect, like a movie.

It was be a cold moonless night.

The sky was dark and low, the air so chilled it hurt to breathe.

"We can leave if you want to," Roman whispered placing his hand on my lower back and pulled me closer to him.

* * *

The night had come to an abrupt end and Kurt had felt more relaxed than he did in the entire year.

Jane wasn't forgotten but she wasn't swirling around in his mind at the moment either so all was well.

"Well that was fun," Tasha said grinning at Reade.

"You really outdid yourself, partner," she added playfully punching him.

"Is there a thank you somewhere ?" He teased.

Sarah, Kurt and Patterson followed behind.

Tasha and Reade's banter was weirdly amusing to watch and boy, did they enjoy it.

"Excuse me?" A young boy said stopping in front of Patterson.

"Do you have any spare change?"

He would've appeared to be just a boy from the chubby face but he was simply too large to be a child.

"No sorry," Patterson said politely.

He nodded and turned away but turned back, snatched her bag and ran off in the opposite direction of the driveway.

They all took off behind him, jumping over overturned garbage cans.

The unknown purse snatcher runs right into Jane almost knocking her off balance.

"Easy there, bud," Roman said gripping him by his shirt and pushing him back.

The guy wore a frightened expression on his face and looked over his shoulder to see a swarm of people after him.

"C'mon Alek, you gotta let me go" he pleaded.

Jane could see the perspiration under his arms, soaking darkly into his clothes, announcing his fear.

"Hey! Are you bothering another woman —" Kurt froze as he got closer and saw that this woman was Jane. Her eyes were red and puffy and she had a man by her side but other than that she looked fine.

Jane stood before Kurt, her insides quivering but her face set hard.

She had cried her tears, suffered her wounds, walked her hardest roads.

There was a moment, just a fraction of a second, when his face showed puzzlement.

Tasha cleared her throat interrupting the awkward stillness and sent Jane her best glare.

She stood closer to Kurt and placed a hand on this lower back, earning a glare from Reade.

Jane couldn't help the grin that stretched out the corners of her mouth, she tried to hide it behind her long fingers and glanced up at Roman, who didnt look very pleased.

"You should get out of here, Aleksandra," Roman said dragging out her name and pushing her back slightly.

Tash sure was upset, she thought quietly.

"Well I guess we should say thank you to you, Jane

Or is it Aleksandra?" she asked coyly taking a step closer to Jane until their faces were inches apart.

Roman placed his arm around her middle and pulled her back slightly.

"Tasha"

"Is this your new boyfriend? He's pretty good looking, I'll give you that," she continued, completely ignoring Kurt's warning.

Roman glanced down at Jane and gave her a bright smile

"She _is_ beautiful but I'm not going out with my baby sister. That's incest, agent," he said to Tasha, giving her a little smirk.

"That's enough, Tasha," Reade said pulling her back.

Tasha blew out a frustrated sigh and raised her hand in surrendered.

"Be careful with her, Kurt.

We all know she doesn't care," Tasha warned before tugging Reade away to give them both some privacy.

She glanced up at Roman and said something in a foreign language Kurt didn't seem to recognize.

He just nodded and walked over to the car.

"Thanks Jane," Patterson said sending her a small smile.

When they were finally alone Jane blurted out

"Sorry about the other night —"

"It's forgotten," Kurt replied leaning his back against the cool surface of the restaurant.

His response had taken her aback and it shone brightly on her face.

 _Who knew that talking to a man you spent almost four years loving, would be so awkward?_

A heavy silence settled over them, thicker than the uneasy tension in the atmosphere.

Unsettled eyes glanced unceremoniously around and tried to avoid catching other glances that passed by.

"Here on a big date?" Kurt asked glancing up at her.

 _God, I missed those blue eyes._

Jane took in a deep, ragged breath before nodding her head slightly.

"Uh no. I was here with Roman and his girlfriend. She already left," she added with a small smile.

"I see you're still stiff when it comes to that kind of thing," he said jokingly.

 _See? It's not that awkward._

"I'm stiff? That's cute," she said giving him a small smirk.

His face broke into a grin and he just nodded.

 _The awkwardness was back..._

"Why'd you leave?" He asked suddenly, avoiding her gaze and tugging at the bottom if his shirt.

"Kurt —"

"Did you ever love me? At all?"

"Can we go somewhere more private?" She asked finding his eyes.

He nodded and called over his sister and coworkers to tell them to go on without him.

Sarah was not happy about this arrangement because she knew how much her brother had suffered over the past year and he didn't deserve to suffer again but she agreed nonetheless for his sake — _for his closure._

* * *

The moon finally takes his place as the darkness surrounded me.

I like the night, it hides my flaws, my imperfections, the scars burned onto my flesh, the stabs of knives left behind.

The moon guides me through the night.

His calming presence makes me slowly close my eyes, my body quietly switching off; but he lets my soul run free.

I can do the things I would never be allowed to do when the sun is out.

I can do whatever I want as my worries, my thoughts, silently burn into smoke as they wonder through the endless night once more.

He wanted to walk instead of drive so we could have more time together; more time to talk about everything that had happened in the past year, I didn't mind it

I needed the fresh air.

The moon under siege by stars seemed to lighten the night bringing forth stars that shone and hung in the blackness.

The never ending blackness consumed everything.

Except the stars which stood out like pebbles.

He had been quiet ever since we left _**The Thatcher**_ , he even kept a safe distance from me and walked with his hands in his pockets.

Usually on the nights we chose to walk to the town he would hold me close to his side and plant random kisses on my lips and temple.

I didn't realize how much I missed that until he was walking alongside me but wouldn't touch me.

"Hey. Do you want to head to café? It's just there," I said pointing up the road.

I don't know why I felt the need to tell him where it was.

He knew it like the back of his hand.

We both did.

"Sure," he said giving me a shy smile.

Shyness was not his thing and it made me sick to my stomach that I did that to him

He was thinner and the colour of his hair seemed to have faded to an ugly sandy colour.

 _When you left he would get drunk every single night..._

 _He wouldn't sleep — wouldn't eat..._

When we finally reached the café, the security guard, Wilkins stood at the door smiling brightly.

"I haven't seen you lovebirds in a really long time,"

The word _lovebirds_ made me sick —not because I didn't love him but because of how easily Wilkins said it. Like it was the most natural thing; like it was right.

"Hey Wilkins," Kurt said slapping him on the back.

They both quickly engaged in a quick conversation about Wilkins's newborn daughter that he couldn't stop showing pictures of.

His eyes glanced over to me and his smile seemed to have widen.

"How are you, beautiful?" He asked, politely taking my hand in his.

Wilkins was the kind of you guy you'd invite to every family dinner and activity because he was always so joyous and gentle.

"Your daughter's beautiful," I said sincerely, smiling up at him.

His eyes averted back to Kurt's as he spoke quietly.

"When do you plan on planting? Haven't you guys talked about kids yet?"

"Um..." Kurt started scratching the back of his neck uncomfortably.

"You know what that's none of my business," Wilkins said with the biggest smile on his face and opened the door wider for us to enter.

Kurt placed his hand on my waist and led us pass the anxious customers.

"Do you want to sit at our —" he started but immediately stopped himself and looked away to hide the sadness in his eyes but it couldn't be missed since I felt that same sadness in my heart.

"Where would you like to sit?" He asked tugging at the hem of his shirt.

"Our table is fine," I said smiling up at him.

He seemed to relax a bit but not as much as I'd have wanted him to but it was a start.

The little café was full. I looked around at the busy tables

An old couple eating side by side, one glass of wine each, studiously bent over their meals.

A group of young women in their thirties collapsing with helpless giggles as a stern woman dining alone nearby looked on and frowned.

The waitress from the week before came over to take our orders with the biggest smile.

"I'll be honest with you when I didn't see you guys for awhile I worried you had broken up," she said quietly.

"We're good, Janice," I said placing a hand on hers and giving it a gentle size.

"I'm happy to hear that," she replied excitedly.

We ate our dinner in a comfortable silence; chatting randomly here and there.

I told him about my time in Russian excluding the torture, of course and he talked about how being assistant director was a stressful position but he managed fairly well.

I knew that wasn't true but I let him talk about whatever he needed to in order to feel comfortable.

"Would you like to leave now?"

He asked carefully reaching into his pocket for this wallet.

I reach across the table and grabbed his hand stilling his actions.

His hands were sweaty and shook under mine.

"Kurt, it's okay,"

A glossy sheen coats my eyes that wasn't there before and my thoughts scatter like there's an electrical storm in my head, too many short circuits to make any sense.

I caused him so much pain and he still wanted to make me — the woman who broke his heart and drove him into depression —happy and comfortable while he suffered.

"You said you loved me and I took you at your word.

You said I was your soul mate and over the years you became part of the bedrock of my personality.

Then you just upped and left me.

I don't want to scare you off again so please just let me do this," he said quietly, gently removing my hand from on top of his and placed $200 on the table.

"Let me help you," he hands me his outstretched palm and I take it helping myself to my feet.

We made our way over to the exit saying goodbye to Janice and Wilkins on the way out.

The darkness stretched ahead as long as the road they had travelled on in the earlier hours, now charcoal hued and cold. The birds were silenced, no one walked the streets,

"Kurt?" I whispered quietly taking his hand in mine.

I waited until he finally turned look at me before I started.

All I wanted to do was yell, cry and kiss him all at the same time.

"Yes?"

When he was just inches away, I stop and just gaze, soaking in the warmth of his eyes.

This is what I had been dreaming of, just the two of us, finally alone.

After a moment I raise my hand to his face and let the tears fall, "I love you,"

He grabs my hand and places a gentle kiss on each of my fingers.

We keep our gazes locked on each other; the whole world fell away and it was just us.

"Don't lie to me," he whispers against my fingers.

I step closer until there were was no space left between us and planted a gentle kiss to his lips; I held it long enough to make him believe that I was serious.

I did love him. _so much_.

He was my whole world —my whole life. I would've died before I ever let anything happen to him.

"Jane, I — what the hell?"

Soon, it began sprinkling.

Little droplets of water drenched my hair, skin, and dress

The water droplets began growing larger and falling frequently. The light 'pitter patter' of rain turned into wet thuds as the icy water raced to meet the ground.

The sprinkling turned into a torrential downpour.

The coldness seeped through my dress and chilled my skin.

The clouds grew darker and darker.

I held Kurt's neck firmly and pulled him closer.

The bone chilling cold seemed unbearable in the howling wind and icy rain.

The sound of thunder rolled through the area as another lightning bolt split the sky.

"Remember what did when it rained like this?"

"Make out like horny teenagers?" He asked backing me up against the closest wall and crushed his lips on mine.

There is something so heavenly about a kiss in the rain, a tender moment that just won't wait.

It is that burst of love that is expressed, not caring if the water soaks through to chill the skin.

It is a connection that shows the strength of the feeling, the mutual need.

It is a rebellion against the elements.

Nature can bring the rain but our inner sunshine comes through just the same.

Those drops weren't just magical, they were divine.

Each one washed away an unseen pain, a doubt, an angst.

From the time our lips were locked together the world itself ceased to exist, blurred and indistinct as a wet painting left out in the torrent that fell from the dark cloud above.

When we pulled back his eyes were like every fantasy I'd ever had of him, every moment I had wished could exist between the two of us.

The kiss, the look, a stolen moment that could have just washed away but instead was set, colour fast, indelible.

He kissed the droplets from my lips, and I felt his lips smile against mine.

I felt him sweep my hair aside and kissed me just over the collarbone.

He nibbled at my ear and placed his hands on my waist, dragging me closer.

His face was buried in my shoulder curve, hands flexing around my back.

"I love you," I said again holding onto him tighter; not wanting this moment to ever end.

* * *

I added a little fluff before shit hit the fan and shit will hit the fan. So be prepared.

I don't know where this chapter came from, to be honest. I had an entirely different idea on what Kurt and Jane's second meeting would be like but this happened instead and I guess it worked out alright.

Also, I've never seen the watching dead.. Ever!

That was just the first show that came to mind and I thought Jane would like that kinda stuff.

I know Jaimie doesn't but I feel like Jane would.

This **might** be the last chapter for awhile. The motivation just isn't there and I'm not in very good place right now emotionally..

So this is goodbye for awhile, my lovely blindspotters.

Thank you to everyone who took the time to read, favourite and follow my stories It means alot.

And I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Please leave me your **reviews** I would love to hear what you think of the story so far. xxx


	5. Chapter 5

"Do you still love me?" The question escaped my lips before I could completely think it through. It was a question I would've never thought I needed to ask.

"What?" He asked, clearly taken aback.

"Do you love me?"

"Jane..."

"It's a simple yes or no answer, Kurt. Do you?

He was silent for several seconds, slipping his hands in and out of his pockets, all while looking at me as if he wasn't sure what to say.

"No. I don't love you. Not after what happened. I can't."

I felt like I've been punched in the stomach.

As I struggled to regain my breath, I cycled through a whole myriad of thoughts I hope would shake some sense into me.

 _No. I don't love you_

 _I don't love you_

 _He doesn't love me_

 _He doesn't care anymore._

 _I gave him a little smile and a nod before walking away._

 _Enough was enough._

This time I was walking away with no intention of ever coming back..

 _ **4 weeks earlier...**_

I sit still on my chair, with no strength to move.

My shaky fingers finally come to stop after running restlessly through my messed up hair.

I bite down on my lip trying not to burst into tears.

This not going to help, it's not going to change anything.

I know anyone would laugh at it if they were present here right now.

The thoughts are accelerating inside my head.

I want them to slow so I can breathe but they won't.

My breaths come in gasps and I feel like I will black out.

My heart is hammering inside my chest like it belongs to a rabbit running for its skin.

The room spins and I squat on the floor, trying to make everything slow to something my brain and body can cope with.

I feel so sick. I want to call an ambulance but the phone is too far away, it's too far away, it's too far away.

I'm on the floor in a ball —the foetal position.

 _Where is he?_

 _What's my name?_

 _Who do I call?_

 _The room is spinning...blackness_

 _...he's gone._

"Hey," Roman says sitting besides me.

He wrapped his arms protectively around my shoulders and pulled me into a bone crushing hug.

I tried to slow my breathing and accept the comfort my brother so desperately tried to give me but that wasn't helping.

Nothing was helping.

I had expected Kurt to be upset but what I hadn't expected was what he said to he, how he looked at me when he ordered me out of his house —saying I had no business being there.

Sarah awoke from all the ruckus —all of the yelling and broken glass and rushed into the room.

She hadn't even bothered to knock she just barged right in.

I had never seen Sarah look that way, her eyes had a deadness, a stillness.

The woman who laughed often, the one who was everyone's friend and the world's best mother, had developed a hardness.

It was as if I could read everything I was blamed for in one extended glare and forgiveness wasn't an option anymore.

She kept her gaze on mine as she walked across the room and went over to her brother.

She placed her hands on the lower end of his back and whispered something gently to him. Whatever she said made me calm down a bit.

He grew in a deep breath and turned his attention back to me.

His eyes were a knife in my ribs, the sharp point digging deeper.

Where there had been love was an emptiness, but not in any vulnerable sense.

Uncomfortable with the void, he had filled it with an emotion he was more at ease with — raw anger.

The unmoving gaze was accompanied by deliberate slow breathing, like he was fighting something back and losing.

"Leave," he whispered gently.

I didn't try to explain myself anymore I just picked up my dress from where it was thrown over the back of the chair and stuffed it into my purse. I was clad in one of Kurt's oversized T-shirts and a pair of his boxers.

I'll mail them to him, I thought inwardly as the tears clouded my vision.

I rushed through the bedroom door then ran straight out of the house. I kept running until I was all out of breath.

I pulled my phone from my purse pocket and punched Roman's number in.

He answered after three rings and I unsuccessfully tried to explain to him everything that happened during the past hours.

"I'll be alright," was all he said.

"You would've been an amazing mother, sis. Don't even worry about it," Roman said gently hugging me tighter.

I hugged him back just as tight and let my anguish wash over me.

* * *

Walking back into Kurt's house was like taking a long trip down memory lane. Every single detail was the same.

"I can't believe you kept those ugly things," I said pointing towards the curtains in the bedroom.

The curtains were a thick red velvet that hung in generous folds around the mullioned windows and were lined with thick cotton of deepest plum.

When they were closed the room was instantly cast into blackness, even on the brightest of days.

In winter they stood guard against the biting cold, making even the deepest of winter nights cosy and warm.

"I needed to keep everything that reminded me of you," he said hugging me from behind.

He threw me an oversized T-shirt and his softest pair of boxers.

He turned to the opposite giving me the privacy he knew I needed.

I wasn't ready to show him my battle wounds —I wasn't ready to explain how I'd gotten them not to him —not to anyone.

By the time I was finished dressing he was already snuggled up on his side of the bed.

I hopped into the bed and tugged the blanket towards me.

An entire year later and he still hogs the blankets

"Tired?" I smiled at him, he jerks awake with a start, and stares weirdly at me.

"No, I'm fine," he mutters, rubbing his eyes fiercely.

"You're lying," I said grinning widely and poking his arm slightly.

"I don't need sleep," he whispered, turning on his side to find my eyes.

"Even vampires need sleep too." I protest, holding him tightly to my chest.

I started rubbing his back rhythmically, as he tried to move from my grasp.

"Go to sleep!"

I kept smiling at his annoyed expression.

His hands slowly found its way under my shirt and I jerked away with a gasp.

I pulled the blanket all the way up under my chin and scrambled away from his side of the bed. From his expression I knew that he knew.

His lethal stare felt painful and piercing, as if his glare was tearing my heart apart with a blinding teal light.

"Kurt..." I started but was interrupted by a small shake of his head. His fist were clenched so tightly in bedsheets that his knuckles had turned ghost white.

"What happened?" He gritted out.

"Kurt I—"

"Tell me!"

My heart skyrocketed out of shock that he had actually yelled at me.

I dragged myself to the edge of the bed and gaped at him with wide, frantic eyes.

His eyes soften at my reaction and he moved in slower.

"I'm sorry. I just..." He trailed off not being able to finish his sentence.

His blue eyes that shone happily only a few hours ago now reflected fear but most importantly — _hurt_.

He moved in cautiously as if I were a feral creature.

"Just tell me," he pleaded, squeezing my thigh gently.

I shook my head so hard my vision went wonky.

You're a SEAL. You're fluent in thirteen languages. You've saved lives, dodged sniper fire and all that good stuff. This? This is nothing.

I twisted my sweaty palms into the white T-shirt I snagged from Kurt and glanced up at him slowly.

"Where did you go?" He asked again; barely audible but the dead of the night made his every vowel crystal clear.

"I was going to come back," I offered shakily. I twisted my fingers so much into the shirt that it blistered.

With one look the verdict was told.

He had been reflecting longer than usual, past the point at which he always came back with an apology.

My face fell as his eyes locked on mine.

They were the ones he reserved for the criminals he'd taken down, a hateful distain.

But it was more than that. There was a tenseness he wasn't even trying to mask.

I backed away, nothing about this was making me feel comfortable, not his curling fists or the anger that radiated from his skin.

"When?"

When someone looks at you like that, eyes holding total anger, it hurts; but when that someone holds your heart in their hand it kills.

Even if you deserve it, sometimes especially if you do.

"I was going to come back...after I found out that I was pregnant," I choked out, bringing my hands to my mouth to stifle the sobs that threatened to escape my lips.

His eyes flashed with indignance and anger, much like lightning on a pitch black night. It was almost as if he couldn't recognize me anymore.

"Where's the baby then? What happened to the baby?"

The emptiness in my heart, the numbness pounding my brain, the salty tears that flowed unchecked from my eyes, the shear nothingness that now took hold of my soul threatened to engulf me entirely.

My legs buckled, knees sinking into the cold floor.

"Oscar made contact with me about two weeks before I left —" I started.

"Oscar's dead," he said firmly shaking his head in disbelief.

"That's what I thought too but we were trained to survive every situation. Somehow he survived the fire and escaped.

He was hauled up for 6 months seeking treatment and getting better before he called me.

He said he was in a tight spot and needed help.

I couldn't refuse, Kurt. I couldn't —"

"Yes, you could've. Do you have any idea what I've been through for the past year? I was suffering, I blamed myself everyday because I thought I didn't love you enough but now I hear that you left because your ex called you?"

The nausea swirled unrestrained in my empty stomach.

My head swam with half formed regrets.

My heart felt as if my blood had become tar as it struggled to keep a steady beat.

My melancholy mood hung over me like a black cloud, raining my personal sorrow down on me.

"He was in trouble. You know how I felt about his death, how much I blamed myself.

When he called me and I heard his voice on the other end of the line I felt like the weight of the world had been lifted completely off my shoulders.

He needed my help and I couldn't just turn my back on him. Kurt please"

"How long?" I didn't need to know how long what. I knew he meant how long was I planning on leaving, how often I kept in contact with him.

"He first made contact with me that night you had to work late for the case which involved the trafficking of children then a few nights after that.

It went on for about two weeks straight. He said he was kept somewhere and he needed help to escape. It took me awhile but I eventually agreed.

It was only supposed to be a few days but when I got there five armed men were there waiting for me.

I tried to fight them off the best way I could but one of them snuck up behind me and took me out. When I woke up I was trapped in an extremely dark, enclosed space."

Kurt sank into the closet armchair.

It was three in the morning and even the birds were quiet.

There wasn't a car on the lane within a three mile radius.

I drank in the silence through every pore, soothed by it's meditative quality.

"The baby?" He asked quietly

I took in deep, ragged breath before placing my hands, enclosed together, onto the table.

"The beatings weren't as bad until I told them that I was pregnant and they should just let me go."

I gently turned my head to the side and pulled the blankets away from my slim body and yanked the shirt over my head, exposing the deep scar marks to a stunned Kurt still seated in the arm chair.

The scars covered my stomach like a hundred silvery pink snakes.

It was a brutal reminder to myself and anyone who saw it of what I endured after I left my boyfriend's house to help out my ex in danger.

The scar on my hip was like a washed out fish bone.

It was the only evidence of the long ago surgery that restored my ability to walk.

Sometimes it ached like a ghostly echo of the knife that cut it so long ago.

"I don't know how long the beatings lasted until I eventually passed out when I woke up it was so cold and I felt so wet. The blood trail was so old at first it could've been mistaken for dried coffee but I knew it wasn't. I knew that the baby was gone. Our baby, Kurt. They murdered our baby!"

"The blood...It was so thick on my fingers, cold. My baby must have died sometime after the beatings got worst and I couldn't protect him or her.. I couldn't save the baby."

"You were lying to me for two weeks. What else have you been lying about?" He asked rising from his armchair and walking slowly towards me.

"Was the baby even mine?"

Before my brain could even register his accusation, the sound of breaking glass rents the air, my eyes are shut tight and I feel as if a million new knives fall softly over my exposed skin.

I freeze, all but my heart remaining statue like.

When finally I allow my eyelids to flutter open I see that the ground is stained red, the colour creeping outward among the shards.

The glass of window scattered all around.

Blood gushed with sickening determination from Kurt's hands, as if his own heart sought to pump it from his body.

I rushed over to where he stood and applied pressure to his gaping wound.

"I loved you. I **love** you. You have to believe that."

* * *

"I know you're tired, I know you're physically and emotionally drained but you have to keep going," Sarah said softly placing a steaming hot cup of coffee on the table in front of me.

It had been three weeks since I finally learned the truth about Jane's departure —the woman I love, the woman I wanted to marry left our home around midnight to go back to her ex.

 _Does she still love him?_

That was the one question that played around in my head on a loop.

She would try to call me atleast twice a day until she finally gave up due to my completely ignoring her calls, text messages... everything.

I was tired as hell, weary with the burden of long closed eyes; I could've easily pulled off being a walking zombie, dead on the inside but subconsciously awake.

"Thanks Sarah," I said offering her a small smile.

She squeezed my shoulders gently and said something about needed to pick up Sawyer from his dad's house.

I was happy that the kid now had a relationship with his dad and all but I really missed my nephew when he wasn't around especially at times like now.

I checked my phone and noticed I had a text from Reade reminding me of our training.

I had finally taken up Reade on his offer to get rid of that pent up anger.

I quickly texted him, changed into my gym gear and rushed out if the door.

We spent hours just running around and getting into several new exercise techniques before I finally called quits. My limbs felt like soft Noddles and I desperately needed a shower.

I really stunk.

In quiet moments she came to me, ghost like I recall the times I felt like she really loved me.

But always there was the knowledge that she never did.

She gave me away like I was something she was glad to be free of, not caring how my story unfolded.

* * *

Jane lost the colour from her face. It was as if her heart had suddenly stopped beating and all the blood had run down into her boots.

She swayed for just a moment before Roman caught him and lowered him to the ground.

"Easy," he said bracing her against the little coffee table which stood in the middle of their little living room.

Her stomach contracted so violently that she had no time to reach the toilet bowl.

Chunks of food covered in the creamy chyme from her stomach were propelled into the air and splattered the carpet and wall of the hallway.

She heaved again and once more the carpet was sprayed. Now she could not move forward without stepping on her own puke and she was feeling weak.

She sank to her knees and retched until only clear liquid was coming up. Her throat felt sore from the stomach acid that was layering it and her mouth tasted of vomit. Roman rushed out to fetch her a glass of water then offered to clean up the mess. The stomach acid stench of vomit filled her nostrils. She surveyed the mess with watery eyes and her stomach.

Roman came back with a mop and looked at her with sympathetic eyes.

"How long do you expect to keep doing this for? You need to take care of yourself. I'm gonna fix you something,"

She opened her mouth to refuse eating once again —to say that she wasn't hungry but Roman was having none of it.

She turned her head toward him, the caustic fluid coating her mouth said one thing, "Water."

Beneath her feet the wooden floor felt soft, not as much as even a firm carpet, but not right for oak planks.

Jane moved to the edge of the room, her jeans brushing against the mildewed wall.

It was hard to make out the details of the room after the summer light outside, but after a while she could make out the features of the room.

It was the same as it ever was, just abandoned, old, dusty.

"Hey. There's nothing here to make a balanced meal. I'm gonna head out for a minute. Do you need something?" Roman asked poking his head through the doorway, looking at her up and down. She hadn't slept or eaten properly in three weeks.

'It's heavy' was the only way she could define it. She had to carry it around even though she never wanted to.

It was always over her, casting its shadow on her life.

It was hung by a thin thread, too fragile to hold something so heavy.

Most of the time she didn't know what caused the thread to finally break releasing the weight on her.

It fell too fast, and before she could run she'd be pinned down.

It crushed her ribs, made it hard for her to breathe.

She tried to scream; a cry for help was of no use.

No one else could see it —the weight that had been slowly crushing her to death.

"Let me get cleaned. I'll meet you outside," Jane grunted out, raising from the table she was braced against.

30 minutes later, she joined her brother out on the front porch.

He looked at her and flashed her a smile; a real smile.

"Good to see you again," he added.

* * *

This chapter has been a long time coming. I've rewritten it so many times yet I'm still not satisfied with the outcome but my friend Elis practically begged me to update so here it is!

Reviews are very appreciated. xx


	6. Chapter 6

**It has been quite awhile since I last updated but truth be told I had completely forgotten about this story. Luckily, my friend Elis, asked nicely — actually she practically forced me back into writing so everyone enjoying the story should thank her.**

* * *

The light of the day had long since ebbed and dwindled to nothing, now as midnight marched steadily toward us the air was cooler and damper than it had been. In the sweet rain washed darkness the sounds of the night became loud in our ears, even the rustling of the leaves and the whisper of the wind was thunderous. I swear that in the absolute blackness of that midnight world I could have heard a beetle in the earth, so acute became my hearing.

I stared absentmindedly up at the ceiling, tucking my arm behind my head. I hadn't slept a wink.

Midnight approached, dragging me into another day. Now all I can do is lie in the star speckled darkness and wait until the dawn.

It had been two months since I last saw Jane, since I told her I didn't love her. That wasn't true, of course. I still loved her. I loved her more than life itself but after what she did to me — _to us_ , I couldn't let her back in. I would be a fool to let her back into my heart

When she first left I would describe my heartache as like an insatiable fire that burnt all the oxygen in my body leaving me listless and empty. But now it is more like a thin layer of ice, cooling my insides, a gentle reminder of the pain that came before and a warning not to stoke that fire again. They say once bitten, twice shy, but I think for me it's more like forever shy. I can't see myself putting my heart out there again, I don't think it can survive another inferno.

They keep telling me to forget, to let her go but how? It's all part of me, I can't let go of the pain without losing something sacred. The good memories keep me going and the bad ones make me want to curl under the duvet and never come out again, but they are locked tight together like two sides of the same coin

"What have you done to us, Jane?"

* * *

 _His hand reaches for mine and they interlock as we kiss tentatively, passionately and then, tenderly. He pulls the thick woollen sweater up, over my head and I feel the little sparks of static dancing over my skin. I'm not sure whether they're from my sweater or if they're from where his hands gently skimmed my skin; either way, it's a magical feeling and causes me to shiver in complete pleasure and ecstasy._

 _His lips press against mine with passion, love, and affection as his warm hands roam all over my naked body leaving a trail of sparks in their wake._

 _"You're so beautiful." He whispers so I feel his warm breath in my ear. I wrinkle my nose in protest._

 _"Shut up and kiss me." I whisper back._

 _His lips gently brush mine and I smell his minty breath as our naked bodies press together. He slowly massages my breast as we kiss, causing me to arch my back and moan softly into his mouth. I roll my head to the side, my chest rising and falling dramatically under his influence. He smiles into the kiss as my fingers tug at his short hair and my other hand scratches at his back._

 _"Kurt, I love you," I whisper as our eyes make contact._

 _Without waiting another moment, his hand traveled lower towards to my waiting sex. He spread my legs, holding my thighs apart._

 _He places kisses so faint they're like whispers along the length of my body stopping at my stomach, he places a gentle kiss directly on my navel then to my dripping sex._

 _He dove in, lapping, tasting the juice on my lips. He drank in my ambrosia, tracing every crevice, every curve with his tongue. I cried out, gripping his hair, shamelessly rubbing myself against his face. He pushed a finger inside, and I couldn't believe how turned on I was or how close I was to climaxing._

 _"Don't stop," I heard myself whisper, my voice strained with arousal._

 _And he was only too happy to oblige. He pulled my lips apart with his fingers and angled his head for a deeper dive, pushing his tongue deep into my snatch._

 _"I could stay here forever." The deep timbre of his voice reverberated through me, and I moaned, rattled by the things he made me feel._

 _I panted, almost crying, my eyes literally filling with tears as my body welcomed the orgasm waiting to take over._

 _With a loud scream I came, clamping hard on his tongue and thick digit still lodged inside me, spasming again and again on his hot tongue and finger, my whole body clenching, my spine snapping backwards, the sensation was so fierce, so intense._

 _He peered up at me from between my thighs. Eyes dark, ravenous, he commanded, "On your hands and knees. Right. Now."_

 _Without hesitation, I turned and crawled to the middle of the bed._

 _He slid in behind me, his palms sprawled out over my soft, round flesh. His cock slid between my legs and poised at my opening._

 _He gripped my hips so tightly I was sure he'd leave bruises and plunged forward, the new position filling me to a hilt._

 _"Kurt," I groaned into the mattress, fingers clawing at the sheets._

 _He continued plowing me, my hand going between my legs. With the intense hunger clawing at me, I rubbed my clit furiously. Kurt groaned and rocked into me, his strokes hard, demanding._

 _In no time at all, I felt my body grow tight around his cock, and pleasure sharpened between my legs._

 _My skin burned, and he burrowed deep when soft quakes grew into hard pulses around his cock. Blistering heat exploded inside me, and I came all over him with a shout._

 _My release dripped down my thighs, and more curses followed as he slid with my wetness, the massage clearly unhinging him. With his cock still buried inside, he leaned over me, his labored breaths hot on my skin._

 _Warm lips trailed over my back as a finger went to my ass, rubbing gently._

 _"I love you so much," he whispered staring down at me in complete adoration, "nothing won't ever change that. I promise."_

My dream ended abruptly, as I was shaken back into reality. My eyes opened, my eyelashes faintly batting against my lids when I blinked. I laid on my bed, debating whether or not I should get up. My muscles felt weak, just like my energy. I let out an exasperated sigh, groaning as I rolled off of the bed I had been occupying.

 _What time was it?_ I glanced over at the clock sitting besides my bed. The bold digits read **1:24am**

I half wonder if I'm still dreaming as I sit up to take in the shafts of moonlight bursting through the curtains. Aside from my own noisy breathing there is nothing to be heard.

 _It was a just a dream.._

 _The dreams were back... **again**_

I pressed my thighs together to trap some of the heat building there.

Waking up can be really harsh, especially if your dreams are better than reality. The saddest part of it is, though, that eventually even the memory of your dream will fade — if you are even lucky enough to remember it that is. Then you're left with this lonely feeling of detachment, left to explore in the empty void of emotions, the only proof that you ever had the dream to begin with.

I lay back down on the bed, eyes closed. My chest heaved with a quiet sob, and tears welled up behind my eyelids, slipping down my cheeks without resistance. Another sob wracked, followed by a thin wail. I curled on my side and wept, shoulders heaving.

* * *

"Do you hear that?" Ellen asked, snuggling up closer against Roman's tone chest.

"Hmm?" He mumbled sleepily, turning to face her.

"Hear what?"

"Listen," she whispered, pulling herself into a sitting position, dragging the sheet with her to cover her naked body.

They both sat in silence for awhile. Just as Ellen thought she had been imagining it, she heard it again. Roman jolted up, picking his abandoned boxers from the floor where he left it only a few hours ago and dragged it over his naked body.

"It's my sister, I got it," he assured his blonde girlfriend, placing a kiss to her head.

"Lie there. I'm coming"

She nodded obediently, clutching the sheet tighter against her body.

Roman made his way down the hall, a noisy cry echoed throughout the otherwise empty house.

"Jane?" He asked, standing at her bedroom. He heard a few sniffs and the ripping of tissues coming from the dark haired woman's room. He waited a bit, hoping she would invite him in when she still hadn't after five minutes. He pushed inside her bedroom quietly, with a pained expression on his face.

It had been so long that his sister had cried. The last time was when he had come home from work only to find her fast asleep on Ellen's lap with dry tear trails on her cheek.

"He said he didn't love her," Ellen explained quietly, rubbing Jane's back gently as she slept.

Roman wanted to kill him. He wanted to take his head off for what he was doing to her — what he did to her, how he accused her of cheating on him.

He stumbled in, to where Jane sat in the darkness of their new home, and sank down beside the bed whispering to his weeping sister. "Hey, Jane...are you okay?" he idiotically blurted. She was clearly not okay. Jane raised her hand, ghostly in the moonlight, and wiped the tears pouring from her eyes away from her cheeks, slapping away his hands when he tried to help her. As soon as she had cleared her tears away, a fresh torrent bust forth. Her body was wracked with great sobs and she shook like a leaf. Without another word, he pulled her to his chest where she stayed until her crying subsided. When she finally looked at him, her beautiful green eyes were swollen and sore.

"I can't do this anymore."

He peered down at his sister, tightening his hold on her. He had never seen her look so defeated. He didn't like it one bit.

"You can," he assured her. "You're strong."

A single tear rolled down her cheek. Stinging her tear stained face. Her eyes now filling with tears glistening in the light, bouncing sadness through the atmosphere.

"My baby —"

"That wasn't your fault," Roman said angrily. They had had this conversation so many times before. For so many days she'd curl up into a tight ball, clutching her stomach and crying heavily, crying out for the child she never met.

"Yes, it was. I chose to leave. My baby died because of my decisions."

He said nothing after that. He just let her cry silently, stroking her hair.

As Roman stroked her hair, her breathing slowed. He began singing the lullaby he remembered their mother always sung to them at bedtime. Now her tears had stopped, leaving only their tell tale wet tracks down her face.

He could soothe her like no one else could. It was impossible to stay anxious or upset with Roman around.

Then as her eyelids became heavy and drooped, he pushed her down gently. Resting her head on the soft pillow before pulling the blanket over her small body. Her eyes fluttered and she stirred a little but she didn't wake. She just turned on her side, pulling the covers with her.

Sighing, Roman ran his finger through his now chaotic hair, just watching her.

It felt like hours before he joined Ellen back in their bedroom.

"Is she okay?" She asked as soon as he entered the room. He looked over at her sadly and sighed.

"She's had better days," he said quietly getting into the bed with his girlfriend.

"You haven't slept?"

She just shrugged. "I couldn't. I was worried"

Roman tucked her against his chest, breathing in the soft strawberry scent of her hair.

"She's alright now —"

"Are you alright though?"

"No." He said honestly, finding her eyes. He squeezed her tightly, tears pricking at his eyes.

She wrapped her arms around his waist, feeling him calm down instantly at her touch. She brushed his tears away with her fingers and started rocking back and forth. Soon nothing but the night time noises filled their bedroom as they both drifted off to sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

"Kurt Weller, as I live and breathe," Roman, who I learned was Jane's older brother answered the door. In the lighting he looked almost murderous — his face bore a deep, lazy cut starting at his eyes and stopping just a few inches from his mouth.

I stood there frozen as I took in his expression. I saw nothing short of disgust on his face, almost hatred, as his face reddened with anger. He opened the door, stepped aside expecting me to follow, slowly I did.

When Wilkins had called me and demanded that he wanted both Jane and I over at this house for his daughter's Christening Party later that evening, I tried my hardest to refuse knowing the strain that was now on mine and Jane's relationship but I couldn't not show up. He had insisted and this was his first born.

He was incredibly excited about his baby daughter so the least I could do was to share his excitement with him.

"She'll be a second. Just stay there," Roman muttered, gesturing to the living room.

My legs refused to move, too shocked, too embarrassed at his reaction after letting me in. I thought for sure that he wanted me to step inside so that he could kill me without any witnesses but instead he just turned on his heels, walking through a door.

After I was sure Roman had left the room, I took the time to now take in the environment before Jane came through the door.

It was a simple yet beautiful house with paintings hung at every nook and cranny. The painting dominates the walls, every colour is bold and painted with such precise lines that it almost looks like a mosaic. They are curved yet sharply defined; they seem to stable but tumble at the same time. Like me I think, so stable but always in free fall inside.

I desperately tried to hide how fearful I really was. I could control the tremor in my voice to a degree. I could consciously will my body movements to be less stilted.

In the midst of my painting appreciation, I heard muffle voices trying to overtake the other but in hushed tones.

Curiousity got the better of me and I moved closer to where the voices were coming from. Slowly, I inched closer and closer until I felt my hip slam into something causing whatever it was to come crashing to the floor. The voices immediately stopped at that and I froze, silently praying that they don't come out to the investigate the noise. It felt like I was braced up against that wall for hours until I heard Roman's voice again, followed by two other muffle voices.

I debated whether or not I should put the box back from where it fell. In the end I agreed that it shouldn't be left on the floor, especially if it were something valuable.

Trying my earnest to quietly move the bag, the contents spilled out and before I could talk myself out of it, I pulled them out to investigate further.

There were about twelve different onesies; different colours and patterns but they all read practically the same message.

'I'm my mommy's whole world'

'My mommy is the best'

The list went on and on praising mothers until the very last one made my chest tighten and immediately I wished I could take back what I said to her. I knew the baby was mine, I knew she would never cheat on me but I was angry and wasn't thinking clearly.

The very last onesie read 'my daddy is an everyday hero'.

She was tortured and lost the baby she was clearly so excited for and what did I do what I found out? I accused her of infidelity.

She lied to you for weeks, the voice in my head argued.

Yes, I guess she did but she's paid enough.

* * *

As the door stood towering above me I let out a shaky breath. The dread and anxiety deadened my mind and body. In my frozen state I let out a shaky breath, closing my weary eyes. I grasped the doorknob, the cold metal sending a shiver up my already quivering arm. Deep breaths. My heart ricocheted off my rib cage and I slowly turned the handle.

Can I do this?

I shook my head rapidly disallowing my second thoughts to get the better of me. Come on, come on! I smoothed out the crinkles in my dress and fixed my fraying hair. Almost mindlessly I swung open the door to the fate that awaited.

"Are you ready?" I asked quietly, pulling him out of whatever daze he was lost in. He looked almost like the old Kurt for a spilt second, he even smiled at me like he used to but it was gone before I could push further. His expression turned cold in the blink of an eye and he grumbled about leaving right now if we wanted to get there on time. I had nothing to say to that so I just followed him out of the apartment, stopping to hug Roman and Ellen before we left.

The drive to Wilkins's house was so incredibly awkward. Neither of us said a thing, we just drove in a very uncomfortably silence. He only opened his mouth to say when we had finally reached our destination. It has been nearly two years since I'd last been at Wilkins's home. It looked like he made a few modification to his already beautiful house.

"I'd prefer if we didn't ruin Wilkins's night. He doesn't need to know that we aren't together anymore."

Without another word, he climbed out of the car, slamming the door behind him. I flinched at the force he used but quietly pushed that aside and followed him out.

"Let's get this over with," he said looking at me. I nodded as we walked closer to the house.

I watched him close the gate and walk away from me, not once did he look back as I stood there, the wounded dog that I've now become, licking my wounds, too embarrassed to move.

* * *

I looked over the crowd. There must have been at least one hundred people watching me, bathing in the dim pink light of Wilkins's home.

"Jane! How are you, sweetheart? It's been so long," Shelby, Wilkins's wife came rushing over with her little bundle of joy clutched tightly to her chest.

I reached over and hugged her gently, careful not to squeeze the baby.

The lyrics swim through my cerebral cortex like a wakeful dream, the notes relaxing me, enabling the song to call to my entire being. Music could never be something superfluous to me, it is medicine delivered in the most divine way.

"Great party,"I said to her with smile when we finally pulled apart. She just smiled and looked down at the sleeping baby.

"Everyone seems to be having a great time."

I could hear them screaming with joy and could feel their feet disturbing the ground around me. Without looking, their smiles extended towards me, attempting to turn my face from who I was really focused on.

Their bodies moved together as they celebrated, rhythmically breaking into shapes and colours that tickled my heart. Shelby attempted to pull me towards the dancing crowd but I politely refused.

Shelby eyes darted to entrance for a split second, before turning back to face me.

"Kurt's here."

The only announcement of his arrival was a slight drop in the air temperature and the descent of absolute silence. Without even turning I knew he was there, pale in the shadows.

His voice came strong and confident.

He greeted Wilkins warmly, stopping to take two drinks from the young, redhead that kept giving him coy smiles.

I wanted to spin on the spot before he could vanish, to take in his face once more so that I could paint a portrait of it for my wall. Instead I turned away.

* * *

"You might be able to fool everyone else but you can't fool me. What's going on?" Wilkins asked, eyeing me suspiciously.

"I don't underst—"

"With you and Jane. Did you guys break up?"

"Wilkins, with all due respect —"

"Just look at her," Wilkins said gently, forcing my eyes over to where Jane stood besides Wilkins's wife, Shelby, hugging her torso and looking down at the little baby wrapped in the pinkest blanket I had ever seen. She had a soft, gentle smile on her face but being with Jane for so many years has taught me how to read her expressions perfectly.

She was struggling, thinking about her own baby that she lost — our baby. But she wasn't the only one suffering. I was hurting badly for an entire year, and she didn't even seem to care. She never called or reached out in anyway. She just stayed locked up wherever she was for the

"Forgive her before it's too late" Wilkins's brown eyes shone with great sadness for the two people he thought would stay together forever.

"My ex wife died and to a day like today I still blame myself. Shelby though," he paused looking over at his wife and little daughter, his smile gentle and his warm, brown eyes brimmed with tears, "she saved my life."

I nodded understandably looking over at Jane who was now touching her flat stomach softly before Shelby asked her if wanted to hold the baby. She declined at first but Shelby was as stubborn as she was. If she wanted something done, it had to be done.

I watched on as Jane carefully took the small child from her mother's arms, cradling her against her heart.

"My ex wife, Violet, was an absolute dream," Wilkins continued.

"She had gotten drunk one night and slept with my cousin. To say I was angry was a gross understatement, she tried to explain, tried to tell me that she was too drunk to know any better but I refused to listen. In a fit rage, I asked for a divorce.

I ordered her out of the house in the middle of night. She was devastated."

"Wilkins, you don't have to —"

"Yes, I do. I don't want you to throw away what you have with Jane. She's perfect for you. Whatever it is just forgive her."

"You don't even know what she did," Kurt responded hotly, his blue eyes blazing.

"I was as stubborn as you're being right now," Wilkins said, ignoring Kurt's outburst.

"Weeks after, she came over to the house and begged for me to listen to her just once. I didn't. I grabbed her by the arm and dragged her over to the door, pushing her out before shutting it on her. I tended to my documents quietly before a piercing scream interrupted my work, followed by a loud crash. I rushed out and I swear to you, Kurt, my heart stopped. Her limp body was lodged between a truck and a car and I rushed over to her in tears, clutching her body to me, begging her to open her eyes and look at me just once. I begged her just as she had begged me. The only difference was she gave me a chance. Slowly, her eyes fluttered open and I was greeted by those beautiful green eyes, very much like Jane's. In her dying moment she uttered two words that broke my heart over and over again — I'm sorry."

Jane had always been it for me. She was the one I was born to love, to trust, to save, to nurture to full health. I saw who she really was. I saw right to her core and I still loved you without reserve. What I see is beauty under damage, a spirit caged yet strong, life surging for liberty, boundless generosity at a cost to yourself. She's like me; stronger, feminine, yet the same.

"Go to her," Wilkins urged.

She made a mistake. We've all made mistakes but could I really just put this behind me?

Could I really move on ?

Could we move on from this ?


	8. Chapter 8

"Hey Shelby," Jane greeted warmly taking a small peek at the sleeping child snuggled against her chest.

"Have you guys made plans?"

Jane's brows furrowed in confusion, "I don't understand."

"Babies." Shelby said simply, looking down at her sleeping child.

Jane could feel the heat growing in her cheek.

They must've been beyond an attractive rosiness.

She felt as if all her insecurities were writ large across her face and there was nowhere to hide. As her anxieties mounted they became a circle, like a song stuck on repeat.

"Sweetie?" Shelby's sympathetic tone brought her back to reality in a rush. The older woman studied her before saying, "You lost the baby." It wasn't a question. She knew. Part of her was angry that Kurt would discuss something like that without consulting her but the other part was relieved she didn't have to.

"Kurt didn't tell me," she explained quickly noticing the look on Jane's face.

"Call it mother's intuition. I am sorry about that though. That must've been awful but atleast you had Kurt there with you."

Yeah, I wish..

Jane gave polite nod and was about to walk away when Shelby pulled her back.

"Hon, you should probably go get Kurt. I think he's drunk."

She nodded again and made her way over to the bar, already dreading his reaction but to her surprise he didn't lash out. He didn't fight her when she'd told him it was time they headed home. He held onto her for support and apparently dear life as they walked out of there, only stopping to say their goodbyes to Wilkins and Shelby.

"C'mon Kurt. Help me out here," Jane said patiently to the staggering man, the drive back to his apartment was bad enough with him singing at the top of his lungs and kissing her randomly but every time he opened his mouth she was quickly reminded that he was drunk and meant nothing he was saying.

They stood in the hallway with Kurt pressed up against the wall as Jane rummaged through the bag, in hopes of finding his keys.

"Keys are overrated," he mutters, pulling her close.

In the hallway that is twilight and shadow Kurt stands close enough for Jane to breathe in his scent. His arms wrap around her back and in one gentle pull their skin touches. His hand reaches her hair, how he loves the softness, watching it tumble as he releases it. Then his hand moves down her cheekbones to her lips. That's when the kissing starts and they start to move like partners in a dance that is written in their DNA. Their bodies fit together as if they were made just for this, to fall into one another, to feel this natural rhythm.

 _Stop this before you both regret it,_ but Jane was far too gone to listen to anything her inner voice was saying to her.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers against her lips, pulling her in for a deep kiss.

She knew he didn't love her back but she couldn't resist. She leaned in a little closer, their forehead touching. She couldn't fight against the thoughts running through her. His very scent was flooding her senses now.

"Would you guys get a room?" One of Kurt's neigbours yelled, grumbling something about horny kids.

Kurt snatched the bag from Jane's grip, frantically searching for the keys. When he finally found it, he pulled her closer to his chest, placing soft kisses to her neck.

Before the door has even closed Kurt wraps his arms around Jane from behind. One inhale of his musky scent and she wants to turn around. His right hand drops to her thigh, pulling up the dress that hung just above her knees. She found that she couldn't move even if she tried, like his fingers have short circuited her mind in the best possible way. He turns and pushes her face into the counter, gently.

"Kurt, Sarah could walk in —"

But he didn't let up, he kept tearing at her dress until she was completely bare for him, sprawled across the kitchen counter.

In the twilight room their fingers caressed each other's skin as if afraid a heavier touch would break the heady magic. They became one, one mind with one goal and purpose, each utterly drunk with love for the other.

"I love you," Kurt whispers, brushing her hair from her eyes.

 _It's just the alcohol talking_ , Jane reminded herself, gripping the counter.

Without checking to see if she was as ready for him as he was for her, he drove his fingers into her already dripping snatch, pumping maddeningly.

Jane's hand tighten, desperate for something to hold on. Her orgasm was approaching fast and it didn't help that Kurt was also rubbing furiously at her swollen bundle of nerves.

His fingers twist deeper into her wet sex, until she cried out.

Suddenly he slips his fingers out, lowers himself to his knees and wraps his hand around her ankle, moving her leg over his shoulder. Feeling ridiculously exposed, she tried to bring her foot down but he holds on.

"So wet and ready" he murmurs, trailing his thumb finger against her wet slit. "I've missed this. Missed you."

His husky tone unleashed another wave of heat within her.

She wriggles under his scrutinizing eyes, trying to push herself closer to his mouth.

"Kurt!" Her tone was so husky, even to her own ears. It didn't even sound like her.

When his mouth finally closes over her wet and aching sex, she isn't able to hold back the moan that tumbles from her lips. Kurt didn't waste any time. He was devouring her, swirling the little bundle of nerves, eating her like she was his favourite desert. And she was.

Her fingers continue to grip the counter as he continues his assault on her sex. He increases the pressure, pulling her more firmly against his mouth.

In no time at all, she explodes with a declaration of her love for him but Kurt doesn't let up. He reached up and twists her nipples into hard buds. The sensations intensifies, forcing the waves of her orgasm to continue ripping through her body. When she finally comes down from her high, she's shaking. Hands gripping the edge of the counter like it would somehow help hold onto her sanity.

"Kurt —"

"Don't move."

She tries to nod but her cheeks pressed against the counter doesn't allow it.

The sound of his zippers fill her ears and before she could form another word, the head of Kurt's cock fits against her entrance and he thrusts, filling her. He doesn't slow. Doesn't wait, just pounds into her. Her fingers curled and unclench where she held on.

Their thrusts fitted each other's perfectly as if they were meant for each other. Moving against each other, feeling each other.

Kurt grabbed Jane's hair, growling into her shoulder blades, causing Jane to whimper in pleasure.

"Cum with me," he demands, thrusting deeper into her. She clamps down on him hard as he keeps pumping into her.

Jane lets out a moan of ecstasy as Kurt shudders his release, pouring his hot seed directly into her.

* * *

"You okay?"

I watch Kurt as he stares at me as if he's not actually seeing me. I wonder if he's already regretting it. He shakes his head as if to clear the fog and blinks. "Sorry, I was just..." He trails off looking unsure. My hearts sinks and I actually felt it break into a million pieces all over again.

In that moment my insecurity comes back for another bite, I turn my back to him, letting a single tear drip down my cheek.

"We should go to bed," I heard him say. Without drawing too much attention to myself, I wiped my eyes dry before sliding in under the covers. I pushed myself as far as I could from where he lay, cuddling up under the covers, making myself as little as possible.

He had already regretted sleeping with me and he should. I took advantage of his drunken state. I should've insisted that we stopped but as I've always been, I was weak to his every demand — I couldn't say no to him. Ever.

I closed my eyes, willing myself to fall asleep. After tossing and turning for about an hour, my eyes closed all on it's own. In my half awaken state I felt strong arms wrap around my middle pulling me close.

"Kurt —"

"Shh. Sleep." His whispers, his voice laden with sleep.

In my sleeplessness I am drunk on silence. For hours it has seeped into my pores, dowsing my mind in its thick toxicity. The usefulness of my thoughts left long ago, leaving these fatigued neurones to fire almost randomly — flailing without direction. I want so much to not to think at all, I want to be absorbed into the darkness that the night promised me hours ago. I want to be waking refreshed to streaming white daylight, unaware of the hours between then and now. But as usual my wishes mean nought and behind these closed lids the idiocy continues.

I told him I loved him as I came..

 _Stupid, stupid! Why would you do that? It was just sex, no need to get your heart involved._

 _He said he loved you first to be fair,_ the voice in my head argued.

 _He was drunk! He's already regretting it._

* * *

 _This was a mistake. I'm sorry._

 _— Jane._

Kurt frowned at the crumpled up piece of paper tucked under his phone. The words were scrawled across the page, as if it was written in a hurry and it probably was. She didn't want to risk him waking up as she was fleeing.

 _A mistake? That's what she thought this was a mistake?_

Clearly, I had read the note wrong, I was still a bit drowsy with sleep.

The more I read it, the angrier I got. A mistake?

I sat on the edge of the empty bed with a raging hard on. That was enough to send anyone off the edge.

I snatched my phone from the nightstand and did something I haven't done in months — I called her number.

It went straight to voicemail so I decided to leave a message.

"Typical Jane. Always running away. I don't know why I thought we could work this out. Wasn't it enough that you walked out on me, taking my child with you? Do you enjoy hurting me? Does it make you happy?"

He didn't even bother hanging up. He just tossed the phone aside, not caring where it went. He ripped the note to shreds and tossed them too in the direction of his phone.

Kurt's head rested in his hands. What a night.

His eyes flashed with anger, much like lightning on a pitch black night. He couldn't recognize her anymore. The woman he had fallen in love with was no one.

Jane. His Jane wouldn't have done that to him. She loved him too much.

Stupidly, he almost believed her when she screamed out her love for him.

 _It was just sex, fool! You made her feel good. She thanked you. The end._

As much as he hated to admit it, his inner voice was right. That _'I love you'_ was basically ' _Thank you so much for that orgasm. It's been awhile'_


End file.
